Taken
by The Sociopathism of Trees
Summary: Arthur has never been one to share what's his, so when an enemy steals his best friend from his very castle? Let the enemy beware.


Arthur stared at the crumbling building with a cold and vicious glee. This was it. After three days of panic and pain, the following week of following leads and tracking down his enemies, all that work had brought him here. To a crumbling fort with four crumbling watch towers built into the surrounding walls, just a few leagues passed the border into Odin's lands. Gwaine shifted minutely next to him, the man's face portrayed none of its usual frivolity nor his absurd humor. His normal behavior had been stripped away in favor of sharp cold eyes and attentive seriousness. Gwaine watched the shoddily clad guards walk along the walls counting and calculating.

"No archers. Ten men on the north and west walls. Six on the east and south walls."

Arthur shifted his focus from the watch towers to the ruined walls. After a moment he found what he had been hoping for.

"There." He pointed to a spot where the west and south walls met. "What does that look like to you?"

The smirk on Gwaine's face would have made another warrior flee.

"A way in."

...

_"Arthur."_

_ The King didn't turn away from the window and his beautiful view of Camelot as the sun fell beyond the horizon. It was no secret that he loved his kingdom and the people within it. He looked fondly down on the last minute preparations for the upcoming festival. Ribbons and banners hung from stalls, fluttering in the light breeze and spreading cheer even in the growing darkness. In the morning the town would be lively and full of music and laughter. Entertainers and merchants had come from all over Albion to mark the occasion and perhaps make a profit. Peasants from many villages had flocked to the castle to take part in the fun._

_ "Arthur it is time to get ready. Don't make me get Gwen." Arthur scoffed, but secretly feared Merlin would do just that. The last time he had gotten lost in his thoughts before a feast Merlin had fetched Gwen, who had in turn read him an impressive lecture on feast etiquette. He loved his wife, really he did, but sometimes she scared him. Finally he sighed and turned to face his long time friend and brother._

_ "It is my feast and I am king, you would think I could show up whenever I wanted to."_

_ Merlin just laughed and shook his head. "You are a prat first and king second, sire." He moved off toward Arthur's desk and shuffled through a few of his papers. "Nothing from Lot? He's had plenty of time to think through your proposal."_

_ Arthur moved toward his cupboard and fished out a clean tunic and a red and gold embroidered jacket to go over it._

_ "No word. I think he means to send an emissary to speak with us directly." He took a moment to pull the clean tunic over his head, then eyed Merlin's own outfit. "What, no obnoxious scarf tonight?"_

_ A sour look replaced Merlin's thoughtful one of a moment before. He looked up at his friend with a healthy glare. "They have all managed to disappear! Just vanished." His glare turned suspicious as the king attempted to fight off a smile. "Arthur! You better not have-"_

_ Arthur cut him off with an arm tossed around his shoulders, walking them both out of his chambers. "It is not my fault your scarves got lost in that mess you call a room! Now it is time we greet our guests and meet this mysterious fellow they call their leader."_

_ He could feel Merlin tense slightly under his arm, his eyes seeing something Arthur couldn't in the distance._

_ "Arthur something is off about those men. I am not sure what just yet. Be careful alright?"_

_ The king paused outside of the doors to the great hall, paying no attention to the noise of the festivities behind the massive oak doors. He placed both hands on the pale man's shoulders._

_ "Why? You can handle it. And why be suspicious of everyone that comes through my halls?" He motioned to the guards outside the doors to open them._

_ "Come Court Sorcerer!"_

_ Merlin just grumbled something about oblivious prats and followed him into the flurry of silks and laughter._

_ ..._

Gwaine and the king made their way back to the other Knights of the Round Table, who had hidden a ways back with the horses. Leon was the first to notice them.

"How does it look Sire?"

The rest of the men gathered around their king so that they wouldn't need to speak loudly. Stealth was the utmost priority and they were all on alert.

"The walls were once sturdy but they have not been repaired for a long time. I don't think these men have been here very long. We will enter through a hole in the wall and see what we can find."

The group nodded their approval. Elyan looked thoughtful.

"When do you plan to breach the fortress? There is too much light to make an attempt now, and they might be more alert when it gets dark." He shifted a bit, looking frustrated. "There is no way that they are not expecting us. Expecting anything less than a rescue would be foolish."

Percival turned to look in the direction of the crumbling walls. "I don't know about that. Mathis didn't seem concerned with us. He barely even glanced our way in the great hall."

"And he was arrogant enough when he stood in front of the court." Gwaine chimed in. "I don't think he expects us to be able to stand against him." The rogue's expression was dark. "He will get the surprise of his life when we cut his men down and end his little party."

"He _will_ pay. We will move in at twilight."

...

_The feast was load and the room full with nobles and servants curious about the group of six mysterious men and their even more mysterious leader. Mathis was tall and shockingly thin. What could be seen of his olive skin under his dark green tunic and cloak was scarred as was common of a knife wielder, though he wore no knives. He had shown up the day before with his men claiming that he wished to speak with the king and Emrys. Now he sat next to the Court Sorcerer discussing his plans to create a grand library of magical books and artifacts that would be available to all who wished it and under the sole control of the Druid elders. His men mingled with the rest of the guests._

_ Arthur had not yet engaged himself with Mathis or his men. He had greeted him then stepped away to speak with Leon. The older knight had been the first to meet Mathis and allow him into the city. Arthur stood with his back to his guest, giving Leon the ability to keep an eye on the room at large. They kept their faces positive and voices light._

_ "What do you think of him?"_

_ "I am not sure. He didn't show any signs of ill will. And many sorcerers have come to Camelot to propose ideas to you and Merlin about the magical community. It's not terribly surprising is it?" Leon watched Arthur's face pinch before smoothing back out._

_ He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Not surprising at all. All the same." He turned minutely, fighting the urge to examine Mathis again. After a moment he straightened his posture decisively. "Merlin mentioned a bad feeling. Post more guards in the outside hallways and have a few more stand along the walls. But only move a few at a time within their view. We don't want any more tension then we can help."_

_ Leon, who had shifted into a slightly more defensive posture at the mention of Merlin's suspicion, nodded. He knew better than anyone, save Arthur, to trust Merlin's instincts. After the debacle with the serkets and the trainees two summers ago the tall knight had decided to put as much faith the the warlock's instincts as his king's own. He turned on his heel and made his way out of the hall through the servants' entrance._

_ ..._

The Knights of the Round Table moved slowly through the underbrush towards the wall, stealth prioritized over speed. Gwaine had grumbled about it at first before Percival had leveled him with a severe glare, the shock more than anything kept him quiet. The normally reserved and pleasant nature of the largest of the knights had been shed in leu of the current hunt. Arthur would have remarked on the change in his men, but he was too busy deciding how best to destroy the fortress in front of him. It would need to go so that no other band of annoyingly dangerous renegades could utilize it. Against him or otherwise.

They reached the base of the wall without mishap and quickly pressed their backs to it, shielding themselves from the view of the men who patrolled along the top. After a moment, Arthur began to lead them slowly sideways toward the breach he had spotted earlier. Upon reaching it, he was disappointed to find that it was much narrower than he had thought.

"I don't think Percy is going to fit through that Queeny." Percival responded with a quick slap to the back of his head.

Arthur ignored them, too focused on the surroundings he could see through the fissure. It seemed to be empty, though he couldn't catch a glimpse of the right hand corner closest to him. But at that moment it was a trivial fact. If someone was there he would just take care of it. That thought in mind he drew his sword, his trusty men following his example.

His armor scraped along the crumbling stones and in a distant corner of his mind the king lamented that his new armor would have to be sent back to the blacksmith to be fixed. That corner of his mind promptly shut up when the man who had been dosing in a chair was startled awake by the noise. Gwaine silenced him with a well aimed thrust before he could alert anyone else.

"You should have just shut him up with your hand! We could have gotten information from him!" Elyan frowned at the rogue, but Gwaine didn't look at all apologetic. "We can just ask the next one we stumble across mate. This place is full of people that will know the best place to hold prisoners."

The ragged looking soldier that tripped through the door at that moment couldn't have had worse timing if he had tried. Percival grabbed him while Leon covered the soldier's mouth, silencing him further with a heated glare.

"See?" Gwaine looked far to smug for the occasion. "It is like calling a well trained dog."

"Don't make a sound. You are outnumbered and outmatched." Leon's voice was filled with steel. The captured man nodded franticly. Gwaine mumbled in the background about cowards and how good help was hard to find, but he was ignored by the others.

Arthur stalked closer to the man when Leon stepped out of his way. "Where is that snake Mathis?"

The soldier shivered at the murderous fury in the king's voice. His eyes roamed frantically around, looking for aid or escape, but all he found was the dark gazes of the most dangerous men in Camelot.

"Hh...he is in th-the great hall. He wa-was finished with the prisoner-" Percival shook the man hard, rattling his bones. Arthur just growled and stepped further into the man's personal space, his eyes impossibly dark and cold.

"Where is Merlin?!"

...

_The evening had gone well. Arthur was almost comfortable in thinking Merlin's bad feeling had been focused on something else. The king had been drawn into the conversation about where the library would be located and how Mathis had planned to keep the local nobles from interfering in the governing of the building. Throughout the conversation Mathis had seemed pleasant enough, if not a little stiff. Merlin motioned over a serving boy, who filled his and Mathis' goblets. The warlock took a swig before finishing his point about the logistics of claiming different magical artifacts from different kingdoms. _

_ Arthur had turned and engaged himself in a different conversation with his wife and her lady-in-waiting when a shiver went down his spine. The drone of conversation next to him had faded into a single voice whispering something indistinct. His neck protested at the sudden snap to the right but he hardly noticed._

_ Mathis was leaning over the warlock, half out of his chair with one arm around Merlin's shoulders grabbing his left arm tightly. His other hand gripped the junction where Merlin's neck met his shoulders just as tightly as he whispered into his right ear. Merlin himself did not look well. His body had gone almost entirely limp and his vibrant eyes had gone hazy and distant. His skin had paled beyond normal._

_ "Merlin!"_

_ The king and Mathis moved simultaneously, standing up rapidly and knocking over their chairs. Mathis took a few steps backwards, dragging the unresponsive warlock along with him._

_ "What have you done to him?!" Arthur's furious eyes drilled into the olive-skinned man but Mathis responded calmly._

_ "Just made him a little more manageable. His suspicion and stubbornness is legendary after all. We can't waste time threatening you to make him agreeable."_

_ Neither noticed that the hall had gone silent and everyone had turned to watch. The knights had their hands on their weapons and the guards slowly began to move toward the three, hoping not to attract too much attention to themselves before they reached them._

_ Arthur's sky blue eyes had darkened in anger and Excalibur rested easily in his hand. "Let him go now and I will not kill you where you stand." The powerful blade was leveled at his enemy. _

_ "You are a pathetic nonmagical child! The only reason your kingdom stands is your precious Emrys!" Mathis scoffed at Arthur's threat. His face shifted from a sneer into a satisfied smirk. "But my compatriots and I have decided that no one man should wield the power of a god. So we shall take for ourselves!" _

_ With a shout Mathis disappeared with Merlin draped in his arms, his men along with him._

_ "MERLIN!" _

_ ..._

Arthur ripped his blade from the chest of another of Mathis' soldiers. He didn't enjoy killing, never had and still didn't. Even though these men had stolen his best friend and brother for nefarious purposes, he still didn't enjoy wrenching the life from their bodies. But Mathis was a different story entirely. He would gladly impale the traitor with his blade. Or maybe an axe would be better. Or a long fall off the outer wall. Or he could just give him to Gwaine. The dark look that had been present on the man's face since that night in the great hall foretold an equally dark ending to Mathis' life story. If Gwaine found Mathis first, Arthur could guarantee that the man suffered before he died. He didn't usually consider the rogue as such a violent and vindictive man. But these were extenuating circumstances and they still had no idea where their warlock was and what condition he might be in.

Mathis deserved what was coming his way and Arthur would let it happen. He never learned to share as a child, the product of a selfish king for a father. He wouldn't stand for others taking what was his. And while Merlin would certainly object to anyone saying he belonged to Arthur, it was mostly true. Merlin had spun into his life like a whirlwind, twisting up his beliefs and blowing away the veil that covered his eyes. The warlock had changed everything and had become his best friend and finally his brother. And no one stole his brother. Not from his throne room during a feast. Not from right under his very nose. Arthur was more than angry and until Merlin was safe and sound again, he would excuse the unusually violent actions of his men.

Gwaine pushed open the thick wooden doors in front of him, exposing the large room and the men inside to the glares of the Round Table. Mathis sat on a wooden chair that may have once resembles a throne, now however, it only looked rotted and unstable. Three guards stood around him and had paused in mid conversation. The knights didn't give them any time to adjust to the new turn of events. Arthur reached the rotted chair and rotten man in four long strides and smashed the hilt of Excalibur against his head. With a massive crack the chair shattered and the unconscious man tumbled to the floor in a heap. The three guards had been dispatched by the time Arthur turned around.

"Well," Gwaine drawled, leaning on his sword. "That was easy. Shall we fetch ourselves a warlock now?"

Arthur shook his head slightly. "I want you and Elyan to stay here with this piece of scum. Leon, Percival and I will head down to the dungeons." The smirk on Gwaine's face was anything but happy. "Don't kill him until we have Merlin. Until then...just keep him from escaping." The last bit was directed more towards Elyan, who had a much cooler head on his shoulders than his long haired friend.

Without another word the king spun on his heel and stalked out of the hall toward the dungeons, Percival and Leon following quickly.

...

Percival examined each cell he passed with a split second glance, unwilling to waste any more time. He was not nearly so livid as the rest of his friends, his gentle nature wouldn't allow him to cross any such lines. All the same, he felt guilty for the disappearance of the fabled warlock. After Lancelot had passed he had taken it upon himself to keep an eye on the younger man. But it wasn't only a duty to a dearly departed friend. He had recognized within Merlin a gentleness that reflected in his own heart. Neither men enjoyed hunting, although the giant was much more subtle in his displeasure and generally less likely to ruin his friends' fun. The two of them would spend their time in the woods talking quietly about life, little things like the best place in the castle to relax and big things like how Merlin felt about the Druids.

Merlin had expressed his insecurities and Percival had done his best to reassure him. His words were not empty either. Percival truly felt that the young warlock was a man to be revered. For all his mistakes and his silly nature, Merlin was a man willing to do anything to protect those around him, noble and kind and incredibly thoughtful. Fate and the Druids had placed their faith in the right man. Percival and Merlin had bonded over their talks and Percival liked to think of him as a cherished younger brother, even if Arthur was closer to him.

Now his younger brother had been taken from right within their walls, in front of their very faces. They had clearly grown complacent. Percival and his fellow knights had fallen into the idea that Merlin was untouchable and could handle any danger that came near them. How often had they watched him take down a hostile sorcerer, or even a group of sorcerers? But he was not infallible, and they had been reminded of that cruel truth. And for his failure he was racing through the bowels of a crumbling ruin, hoping to find a friend in a salvageable condition. Arthur and Gwaine's faces the moment after Merlin had been taken from the feast flashed to the forefront of his mind. Gods help the men in this fort if Merlin was dead.

Percival shook himself from his thoughts, it wouldn't do any good for Merlin for him to be lost in his thoughts.

"Look!" Leon pointed to a door at the end of the dungeon. It was heavy wood held together with iron straps, an altogether imposing figure at the end of the hall. Wrongness oozed from the other side of the door as they neared it. Wrongness was the only way to describe it. It felt cold and thick, cloying in the air, a heavy sense of darkness. Not quite evil but nothing remotely good. Arthur only hesitated a moment before shoving his armored shoulder against the wood, slamming the offending door out of his way.

All three froze on the threshold. The room was larger than they had expected, cut roughly out of the rock underneath the fort. The ceiling, walls, and floor were all covered in swirling back markings. The markings seemed to suck all the light out of the room shifting in mesmerizing patterns, but the knights hardly noticed. Their gazes had been drawn to the body on the floor in the center of the large design.

Merlin, pale, bloody, and hideously still, lay at the heart of the design, the dark runes radiating from a center circle. Arthur sucked in a hitching breath before bolting toward his brother. Crashing to his knees next to Merlin's chest, Arthur gently turned him on to his back. He hissed when he realized just how cold the warlock was to the touch.

"Come on Merlin, I need you to wake up!" Arthur shook his shoulder gently, with only a hint of the desperation that was leaking into his voice. "Let's have you lazy daisy!"

There was no response other than the whisper of shallow, slow breaths.

Leon knelt down on the other side of Merlin's prone form. He ran his hands lightly of his body, checking for injuries and the source of all the blood spattered across him. His tunic had been slashed to rags by a knife, with several cuts in his skin when his attack was less than kind. His left shin had been broken and lay at an unnatural angle. His right arm had a deep cut that ran from his shoulder and curved in to end at the inside of his elbow. Leon slowly removed the shredded tunic, careful not to jostle the unconscious man. Merlin's entire torso was a mass of black, blue, and sickly green, but the blonde knight's attention was caught by a small mark that reached up from around his back to his hip. It was a thin line that had been carved into his skin then burned until it stopped bleeding.

"Arthur we need to turn him over." He caught the king's eye and steeled himself against the emotions tumbling through them. Guilt, horror, and absolute wrath stormed behind sky blue. After a moment he nodded and they turned him, resting his head and upper chest in Arthur's lap.

"Gods above!" The king's grip on his best friend tightened as his two knights stared down in wordless horror. The entirety of Merlin's back had been carved into the likeness of gnarled tree, with roots stretching further down and around his body. Just as the small line Leon had glimpsed before, each carve had been burned over. The trunk of the tree had been carved wider and deeper than the rest of the image and was oozing black pus on to the rune covered floor.

"What kind of _sick_ person could do this?" Percival's voice caught and scraped through the air. He was visible shaking, with rage or something else, Arthur couldn't tell. His own mind had been overtaken by sadness, a deep drowning sadness that wiped away his rage at Mathis and his fear for Merlin's life. He clutched his brother to his chest, mindful of his back, and buried his face in Merlin's dark hair. He felt frozen and hollow. How could anyone hurt Merlin so terribly? The warlock could be intimidating when he was Emrys, but as another member of the court he was kind and thoughtful, and more than a little bit silly. It was like carving up a kitten while in meowed up at you with pleading eyes. Absolutely impossible. He didn't even care about Mathis any more, Gwaine could do with him as he pleased as long as the dark haired knight never said another word about him while Arthur was alive. The king just wanted to get his brother home where he could rest among his family and have the best healers in all of Camelot, magical and nonmagical at his beck and call.

He croaked out, his voice catching on the last word, "We need to get him home." The king stood up, shifting Merlin in his arms to more easily lift him.

And went crashing back to the floor, the warlock tumbling away from him. The runes had begun to shift and writhe more violently, almost as if they were reaching for the warlock, demanding he stay. The black ooze fell faster and thicker out of Merlin's back, where it splashed onto the runes and vanished. Three of the black runes traveled up his fingers and on to his arm, staining his pale skin like ink.

"No. You. Don't!" Arthur growled and picked up his sword from where it had fallen next to him. Rushing forward, not rightly knowing what he was doing but letting instinct take over, Arthur grabbed Merlin around the shoulders hauling him upwards. The runes followed, creating a chain that continued to drag him to the ground. Percival grabbed hold of Merlin's left arm and heaved against the dark magic but even his strength only just managed to keep the runes from dragging their friend down. Arthur tried to reach forward and pull at Merlin's rune covered hand. The second his skin grazed the runes an agonizing shock went through his body and Merlin screamed, thrashing around in their hold.

"Merlin! Stop! Please calm down!" Arthur blinked through his tears. "Please Merlin. Please." The king wasn't sure what he was begging for. Please stop thrashing? Please wake up? Please be alright? Please, please don't leave me.

After a long painful moment Merlin went limp, his breathing labored. His head slumped on to Arthur's shoulder. Arthur gripped his sword tighter and glared icily down at the runes anchoring the warlock to the floor. Growling darkly he swung sword. A tremendous crack echoed through the dungeon and the runes flashed a bloody red. An unearthly wail struck out against their minds like an ice pick. Arthur felt like his arm had been struck by lightening but he continued to push through. He would sever this chain and his warlock would return home with him to annoy him and inspire him as he always had. Arthur poured all his rage and sadness and determination into the blade. Merlin would not die, not while Arthur had breath in his body. And these runes were in his way. He struck again at the chain, bracing himself for the fight. The resistance against Excalibur vanished and he stumbled forward as Percival stumbled backward with Merlin. The wail abruptly cut off, the runes began to shiver, and a soundless explosion rocked the room.

Merlin's body went rigid in Percival's arms before going limp again and letting out a gasping breath. "Merlin?" The knight shifted him gently. "Arthur! I think he is conscious!"

Arthur spun on his heel, no longer concerned with the fading runes now that the oppressive dark feeling had vanished when the connection shattered. "Merlin?" He placed his gloved hand on the warlock's pale forehead, is was still far too cold to be healthy. Clouded blue eyes looked at him through barely there slits.

"-Thur?"

It was little more than a whispering croak, but it was one of the best things Arthur had ever heard. "You're safe now, Merlin. Rest." A shadow of a smile was his only response before the slits fell closed. The king let out a long breath, the tension leaving his form, his grip on his sword relaxing, his relief palpable.

"Let's get him home."

...

"Now you are just being unreasonable, Merlin." The king picked at a loose thread on his sleeve. The warlock lay quietly on the bed in front of him. "Two weeks is where I draw the line."

"Mhmm?"

Arthur leaned forward with enthusiasm. "Wake up _Mer_lin. You are far too lazy for your own good."

Merlin's eyes opened a fraction, fighting against the sunlight before slowly adjusting. He turned toward Arthur's voice and blinked heavily. "Lazy?"

"Yep! You didn't even help in the rescue effort! I had to fight dark magic all alone!" That had the desired effect. Merlin's eyes shot open and though still bleary with sleep his eyes were concerned. "You're alright?"

Arthur sighed, but still maintained the fond teasing tone. "Yes _Mer_lin, I am alright. So are the knights. Though I can't say the same for the people in that fort." The warlock attempted to sit up but fell back down with a groan.

"Back hurts."

This time Arthur's voice was sad and a little guilty. "Yes, it would be. Those savages carved into and then burned the skin over the cuts."

Merlin broke eye contact and instead focused on some point on the far wall, all traces of his long sleep had left him. "It was for the spell. They wanted my magic to spread to others. As the tree 'grew' more branches my magic would take hold in another person." He shivered at the thought. He remembered every moment of that tortuous process. Mathis had used magic to make sure that Merlin had stayed awake and coherent for every slice and every burn. The burning hadn't been necessary, Mathis had just wanted to hear him scream. But he wasn't about to tell Arthur any of that. He closed his eyes at the thought of having a mangled back for the rest of his life.

"Merlin. Look at me." It was a king's order. Once Arthur caught his eye, he started speaking softly. "Your back is going to be alright. Once the strange markings disappeared the black ooze stopped and your magic was able to fight its way free of whatever bound it. It started healing you the moment we escaped the fort. Gauis suspects that that is why you have been asleep for such a long time. When last I looked, all that was left was thin scars, barely noticeable." Merlin looked a little more relaxed at that but tensed up again.

"Mathis?"

"Dead." Merlin's eyes went wide, it was the answer he was expecting, he knew the knights and king better than he knew himself after all, but it was still a shock. Arthur carried on flatly. "It seems that leaving Gwaine in charge of prisoners is a bad idea. The fort burned down as well. Nobody else will find it a convenient place to plot against me."

"Thank you."

Arthur gazed fondly down at his exhausted warlock, hearing all the unspoken words between them. "You are very welcome brother."


End file.
